Monday, December 5, 2011

Let's face fact, Ely Buendia is indeed an icon of Pinoy Rock. Like the many geniuses of our time: Rico Blanco, Francism, Raimund Marasigan, and Pepe Smith, Ely is as one of the pillars of rock that this country is lucky to have. Indeed like what was said in one of his song, Ely has crawled the minds of the masses and lovers of rock/pop music. In this video Ely again, opens up his many facets, and once again, tell it like it is-- witty yet honest and more importantly, no BS.

Monday, September 26, 2011

ROBIN RIVERA: The Eraserheads Album Producer Reveals the Secrets of the Classic AlbumsCategories: FeaturesPosted on February 23, 2009

From the electronic pages of our content partner Pulse.PH comes part two of writer Aldus Santos’ profile on Robin Rivera, the professor-turned-record producer who worked on all the Eraserheads albums. In this installment, Robin peels back the layers to reveal the recording techniques behind the classic albums. Robin Rivera also produced this band’s album.

Equal parts studio artist and logistician, Rivera always put emphasis on order and a rigorous program. He would invariably go, “Okay, Marcus, you have to work on this,” or “Ely, we’re gonna do this, so I want you to fix it already by the time you get to the studio.” Luckily, the producer shared, “When they get there, they already had an idea what they were gonna do. It was just a question of, ‘How fast can they execute their ideas?’”

The Eraserheads, needless to say, had very distinct personalities and conducted themselves very differently in the studio. “Ely would always come, and whatever he wanted to do, he had already broken it down to very, very small things. So, he would work on them one after another, these very, very little things. ‘O, what’s next?’ ‘I’m gonna do this guitar overdub.’ ‘Where in the arrangement are you going to do this?’ ‘Sir, it’s here, here, here, and here,’” he said of his singer and mainman, gesturing with his fingers like an agog child in a candy store.

On his drummer, he offered, “Raymund, because he plays drums—it was very hard to punch in drums—most of his performances were from beginning to end. They have to be practically in real time. Raymund, again, he does his homework, he knows exactly what he’s going to do—it’s just a matter of, ‘Can he pull it off?’ [For] each drum part, we’ll do about three, four, five takes. Usually, by the fifth take, he’s happy with it. I just wait ’til he says, ‘Sir, that’s the one!’”

His bassist, because of his proficiency, perhaps necessitated the least amount of looking-after, and he shared, “Buddy, every time he does a repeat, there’s very little variation.” On his beachnik guitar player, meanwhile, “Marcus naman is the opposite of Ely. Marcus doesn’t break things down to small, neat pieces; usually, it’s one big thing. I remember when we did ‘Maskara’ from Carbon Stereoxide. He showed up with this really big idea: ‘Sir, I’m going to play the entire rhythm guitar part backwards. I really practiced hard for it.’ ‘Bahala ka.’” The low-profile frontman of Markus Highway was, in his heyday, utterly unpredictable, to say the very, very least. “’Pag ganyan, you flip the tape over, and what you hear from all the previous tracks is backwards. So, you have to hear it several times before you know what you’re hearing corresponds to which section—just to know where you are! The time indicator was also baliktad, so we were computing,” the producer further elaborated on Makoy’s magic moment, emphasizing, “In Marcus’s case, it’s usually a very, very, very big idea, which, many times, makes it more difficult to pull off than what Ely does—pero, ‘pag nagawa naman, ‘Wow!’ It’s worth the trouble.”

As the boys grew in popularity, so did their creative restlessness. No longer were they simple Fender Stratocaster-loving college kids. They became, with the aid of Robin Rivera, one of the most envied studio bands in the land. From the naked, arguably lackluster aural quality of some of their earlier material—perhaps “Pare Ko,” most certainly “Tindahan ni Aling Nena,” in my opinion—they became the band to beat in studio wizardry.

“There’s one point, I remember—especially towards Natin 99—where, in addition to tape, we all had virtual tracks. They went to Japan, and they all had MDs, or mini-dics. So, they’d record at home, and we’d reload those into the studio systems. ‘Pag nand’yan na, ‘tsaka na lang mag-o-overdub si Ely ng mga stuff that was better done in the studio than at home—acoustic guitars, drums, stuff like that,” Rivera shared, exclaiming, “Anak ng tokwa, we were using twenty-four tracks on tape, and we were laying back at least twelve more into the computer, so we were running anywhere from twenty-four to forty-eight tracks per song! It was really quite amazing. ‘Ang daming gamit, o!’ And this was before PCs, ha. I can’t walk on the floor anymore because there was so much stuff.”

With the technology, of course, came the subtle decline in human interaction, prompted in part by geography. “At that point, they weren’t living together anymore. Dati kasi, they all live within four to five blocks of each other at U.P. Village. But, siyempre, at one point, Raymund moved over to Marikina—he was renting a house with his brothers; Buddy was in another house in U.P. Village; Ely was in Teachers Village naman, because he had moved out of the apartment with Marcus. They weren’t living that closely to each other anymore,” the teacher recounted, emphasizing the great leap in his boys’ circumstances, whereas, “Dati nga, eh—I remember we used to record Mondays and Thursdays yata—Ely and Marcus had the same coding day, Wednesday. I’d pick up Ely first, then Marcus. Dadaanan ko sila, tapos gigisingin ko na sila.”

Indeed, the narratives gave way to free association, and the organic gave way to the constructed. By the sunrise of Sticker Happy, the garage charm of the ‘Heads will be replaced with a much disembodied, almost alien-like sensibility. By Natin 99, that quality would reach even greater heights. However, the ‘Heads weren’t noise artists, nor were they peddlers of dissonance, and their penchant for memorable melodies and turns-of-phrase remained intact.

“People knew that they were already living apart from each other, and maybe you might get that impression, listening to the records,” Rivera guessed. “However, if you listen to the recordings alone, the objective was always to make it seem like everything was originating from one place. That was always my target. Eventually, they were able to set up their little studios at home, and that took over.” As Carbon Stereoxide swung by, it was getting clearer that, not only have the Diliman lads grown in songcraft, they have also developed as studio artists.

However, their celebrated producer shared, “To me, [my role] has stayed pretty much the same. The thing with the Eraserheads was that we recorded so many albums together that, by the latter albums, I didn’t have to tell them anymore what to do. They sort of knew already, eh.” The good professor, who around this time had just started work on his doctorate degree, would have two to three voluminous , er, volumes in the studio. As he flipped through the pages, he would be swathed in the ‘Heads’ technical banter, and he was like a confident parent letting his children loose without any fear of broken limbs or broken china, so to speak.

Needless to say, Robin Rivera had enough academic detachment to appreciate how his most popular clients became not only a phenomenon, but a standing metaphor for a well-lived life as well. “Each album has some connection to what they were going through. Ultra, Circus, and Cutterpillow were the adolescent albums. These were the albums in which you see, most of the themes are all those which happen to people who were experiencing adolescence,” he opined on the ‘Heads’ first triad of releases, continuing, “Pagdating ng Fruitcake, that was another part of their lives: they weren’t kids anymore. They wanted to do something a little more ambitious—something that still had something whimsical, but still had something different.”

“Pagdating ng Sticker Happy,” he offered of their genre-bending release, “they began traveling. They were beginning to see the world; they were getting older. Those songs had something to do with discovering new territories.” He offered the same dissection of Natin 99, saying, “They were experiencing new places, new technology—new this, new that. It’s something that only a twentysomething would write. Unfortunately, the people who started out with them—who were now actually twentysomethings—were more interested in clinging to their adolescence, because that was the part of their lives that was fun. Because, now, they’re working—and work is drudgery.”

As for the group’s dissolution? Well, all good things come to an end. “People started having their own lives. The fans had their lives to live also, so they stopped their dependence on the ‘Heads.” On a more positive note, he added, his brows meeting midway in the depth of his forehead, the memories battling for room in the producer’s restless mind, “Music was never a burden to them.”

IF YOU GET THAT CALL ASKING YOU TO JOIN THE BIGGEST BAND IN THE LAND, WOULD YOU HAVE SAID NO? KRIS DANCEL RECALLS.

I am at my favorite Filipiniana-themed restaurant along Kalayaan Avenue, yet, somehow, it feels like the train at a dead hour, and I keep straining for the security guard's whistled warning; after all, it appears like I have accidentally stepped into the ladies' portion of the train. My peripherals tell me that's Earnest Zabala at the head of the long table that's otherwise empty, save for her and a friend. In a matter of a few minutes, artist Cynthia Bauzon-Arre will arrive, husband Arnold Arre in tow. In a matter of a dog's tail-wag, decorated bass player Myrene Academia will also step in, all smiles. And, as if on cue, the woman I am meeting: Kris Dancel, singer-guitarist for Cambio, Duster, and, most notably, Fatal Posporos. Old wood and yellowing portraits abound at the resto, and, because of the vaguely antiquarian interiors, teleportation (or, to some degree—though imagined—time travel) is on my mind: tonight's dramatis personae feels like a modern recasting of Isabel Allende's House of the Spirits with its strong women—Nívea, Blanca, Alba, Clara—and it is making me feel small. The song in my mind right now, for obvious reasons, is that one by Space, the one that goes “The female of the species is more deadlier [sic] than the male.” Lest I reference to oblivion, it needs to be said: these great, strong women have one thing in common—they were, in one way or another, connected with the Eraserheads. Kris Dancel, as a matter of fact, was one.

The Eraserheads were, as usual, touring their then-current record, 2001’s Carbon Stereoxide—which, by all accounts, was nothing like the sunny Eraserheads of yore. On the creative front, the band was as restless as ever, but, on the personnel front, things have been going a little haywire. And then, that fateful day came, and, when it did, Kris Dancel was being a wife and a mother. “Nakikipaglaro ako sa baby ko, and then, nag-ring 'yung phone, and Vin answered it; it was for him, the call. It was Raymund, or Buddy, or maybe both of them—I don't remember—but, anyway, they were asking for advice [on] what to do, kasi umalis na daw si Ely sa grupo,” she recounts from seven years back with visible effort, continuing, “And, of course, Vin, hearing the news, he didn't take it silently: 'Ha? Umalis si Ely sa 'Heads?!' Siyempre, medyo violent 'yung reaction niya, 'di ba? Which is, narinig ko. So, sabi ko, 'Okay, sige, ako na lang 'yung papalit.' Siyempre, I was kidding; I wasn't serious.” There was panic at the Dancel household. These are their friends, and their mega-selling band was practically on life-support. The man of the house, at a loss for words, relayed his wife’s quip to Marasigan and Zabala, “Ha-ha, sabi ni Kris, siya na lang daw 'yung papalit.” A bit of dead air, and then, “Siguro, less than an hour later, tumawag uli sila, sabi, 'Sige, Vin, punta na kayo dito.' Kukunin na nga daw nila ako!” you can still hear Kris shriek, adding, “and, as a fan, kahit sinuman 'yun, kung i-o-offer ka na maging part of that band, hindi ka naman hihindi, eh, 'di ba?” She challenges, “If you receive that call, would you have refused? Hindi, eh! So, 'yun, I accepted the job. In a way, para akong napasubo, pero, in a way, okay din, Masaya; sobrang saya.”

Kris was no stranger to the scene, being the frontwoman of then-burgeoning band Fatal Posporos. However, her good fortune also translated to a delicate situation. It was, after all, Ely Buendia who left. She had no time to seriously sink her teeth into this scenario, however, because, “When I stepped in, trabaho agad siya, kasi may commitments at gigs na agad, eh. Siguro, I had about two weeks to study, like, thirty songs. Nakalinya na 'yung mga gigs, and, in fact, they wanted me to play a gig three days after the call. Gusto nila akong isabak na agad! It was a busy environment. Okay naman sila, very helpful, et cetera, et cetera. Pero, kumbaga, I started working agad.” When this new Eraserheads lineup debuted at the Hard Rock Café, the band was shaken but very, very excited. Kris shares, “Si Raims—may video nu'ng first gig, eh. Kita 'yung reactions nila. Si Marcus, 'yung reaksyon niya, 'Ang haba naman ng slit nito.' [laughs] Mahaba raw 'yung slit ko! Hindi raw siya sanay na ganu'n 'yung kasama niya onstage. Tapos, naaalala ko, nabuhos ni Raims 'yung beer sa drums niya, tapos sabi ko, 'Kaya pala malagkit 'yung tugtugan!' 'Yun 'yung mga natatandaan ko.” “Hindi siya, kumbaga, shinowbiz—I don't remember it being like that,” the singer-guitarist adds.

“'Yung songs naman—since binubugbog na rin naman namin sa practice—ayos din naman. Singing and playing guitar—hindi naman siya alien to me at that time, kasi I also do that for Fatal Posporos. And, the Eraserheads songs, hindi rin naman sila alien,” the lone female Eraserhead in Pinoy rock history recalls. However, her femininity—which of course brings along physiological, and, consequently, musical issues—brought on some minor changes in the band’s dynamic. “Pr-in-actice namin sila [the old songs] in my key. Same progressions naman, transposed lang—pero hindi pa rin siya super-natural,” Dancel shares with no hint of apprehension. Transposition, in music, merely involves a horizontal shift in the key a performer would play a piece in. If, say, “Magasin” was sung by Buendia in the key of C (C, E-seventh, A-minor, F), Kris, I’ll venture a guess, probably sang it a whole step higher, in the key of D (D, F-sharp-seventh, B-minor, G). In more general terms, however, to “transpose” would equate to putting something in “a different order,” as with rearranging words within a sentence. A new set of songs was, therefore, in order.

Kris remembers, “Ginawa namin 'yung Please Transpose as a songwriting exercise for the band, to see how we would work together. EP lang muna siya, kasi wala pa kaming label at the time. And then, hindi namin r-in-elease 'yung EP na 'to officially. What we did was, du'n sa rehearsal studio namin sa Thirdline, we invited friends, family, at saka 'yung mga record labels—to see the band perform, and, also, to give away that EP, para makita namin kung ano 'yung reaction nila. It was good.” Said EP even produced a modestly well-received single called “You Make Me,” as well as a supporting music video. Meanwhile, her life as a musician was drastically changing as well. While the Fatal Posporos existed in a low-key manner, the ‘Heads, naturally, couldn’t escape its superstardom, and they were always wanted in different parts of the country. Dancel was, naturally, nervous about the undertaking, because, mainly, “First time kong sumali sa banda na super-duper legend—Eraserheads 'yun, eh. Kasi, iba 'yung audience ng Eraserheads, eh. Para kang batang itinapon sa dagat na maraming pating—'O, sige, matuto kang lumangoy!' Ganu'ng klaseng kaba: na, any moment, p'wede kang kainin ng pating.”

Kris Dancel would be in the Eraserheads for almost two years, and the band would gradually morph into what is now known as Cambio. Sugarfree’s Ebe Dancel, her brother-in-law, will join them, as well as Monsterbot’s Diego Mapa. The name-change, however, was prompted by Marcus Adoro’s decision to finally leave the band. “By the time na officially umalis na si Marcus, we understood, kasi, at the time, surfing mode siya, eh. Ang saya nu'n, eh—kung kami lang, marunong!” she shares, opining, “Nu'ng umalis si Marcus, medyo ridiculous nang gawin pa siyang 'E-heads,' kasi dalawa na 'yung wala.” Some people may have scowled at the thought of an Eraserheads being fronted by another person other than Buendia, but Dancel rose above it all, and, when it ended, she was able to take good things with her. “They're brilliant people, and they inspired people to be more creative. They inspire creativity; hindi sila selfish, never sila nagpaka-rockstar sa amin. Sobra nilang open and collaborative. Alam mo talaga na love nila 'yung craft, and they really have talent,” Dancel speaks of her colleagues with the glinting eye of a rabid fan. The ‘Heads were a band, after all, who, after over a decade of reigning the scene, seemingly had to start again. If the seven-song EP Please Transpose was to be any indication of their individual skills, however, it would be safe to say that they still ruled; they still sounded like a band that played, toured, and wrote nonstop. “You Make Me,” “Everything,” “I-centric,” “Lahat,” “It’s Not You, It’s Me”—as well as two transposed and rethought-of versions of “Paru-Parong Ningning” and “Dahan-Dahan”—these songs (most penned by Marasigan, some co-written with the rest), would have signaled a new era for the ‘Heads, in spite of the not-so-minor changes that the band went through.

Monday, July 4, 2011

Eraserheads Experience proudly presents: Marcus Adoro. It is debatable wether Marcus Adoro is really apt to be tagged in the Eraserheads as "the quiete one" (similar to George Harrison of the Beatles) but we seriously doubt it. Marcus has his own mind. He is able to speak with class if he really wants to.

The thing is, he knows that with the Eraserheads, Ely Buendia is the frontman. That is why he knows that Ely is the one who does the blabbing most of the time for the Eheads, when they were still active as a band. Now when it is time for his band Markus Highway, then he knows that that is the time when he can be in the front and center. And from past interviews for Markus Highway, we can see that Marcus can blab a lot. He is cool. He loves wordplay. He can be outspoken and truthful. He can bite the ass out of you!Read more about Marcus Adoro :MAKOY!

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

The Eraserheads hit "Alapaap" written by Ely Buendia, the title being an allusion to Tata Esteban's feature film debut titled "ALAPAAP" that was an entry to the 1984 Metro Manila Film Festival.It stars Tanya Gomez, William Martinez and Mark Gil.

Alapaap was released as a cheap X-rated film in a sleazy theatre in Singapore, despite it is a production made in 1985.

It is a mixture of horror and sex, with poorly done technical effects (well, we can't expect the technical effects to be greatly done, as this is make 21 years ago.)which makes the movie laughable.

The story revolves Jake, a young movie maker who was hospitalized for drug overdose. He recovers and together with his good friend Dave and Donald (two brothers), who are also movie makers, they make their way to a hilly tribe to make a short film. Accompanied with them includes Dave and Donald's girlfriend.

They rented a house and the landlord told them not to enter his deceased daughter, Byens, bedroom. The night the lived in, they could sense something unusual is going on in the house. To be exact, it was Byen's spirit that came to them, where she was raped and murdered by 3 thugs 2 months ago.

Byen returned as human being and seduced Jake in the waterfall. Dave and Donald caught them and tape the process down. However, when they see the clip, they found out that Byen is not in the clip they taped it down. Never did they realized that Byen is seeking vengeance on them.

The plot is simple, just like the usual Asian horror film where a group of people meet a female ghost in rural areas. However, Alapaap delivers us with more than just the usual horror. Endless sex scenes make the whole movie look ridiculous, where it does not seems to go along with the flow of the film. Sex is the weapon used for vengeance, which makes the movie look like cheap X-rated film than a horror.

Tuesday, May 24, 2011

The Eraserheads in their early stage of stardom singing one of their earliest classic hit "Ligaya". This is definitely a good gig. The foursome did a great great job on this.Watch this now mga parekoy.

Wednesday, May 18, 2011

The Eraserheads really made a big impact in the Pinoy Music Scene and it is hard to ignore the fact that WE missed them a lot after they disbanded years ago.That is echoed during the Final Set Concert. Fans really went wild over the band and up to now a lot of us still goes giddy remembering THE event. I read this article a year ago from Inquirer and saved it on my notepad. I know a lot of you have read this one, this goes out for the younger generation of Eraserheads fans out there to read and enjoy, somehow relive the Eraserheads experience all over again!

10. After failed attempts by the audience to cajole the members of Eraserheads into doing an embrace (Ely Buendia told the crowd, “Kayo muna!”), Ely, Raymund Marasigan, Marcus Adoro and Buddy Zabala (and the Itchyworms’ Jazz Nicolas) walked to the front of the stage, put their arms around one another, and took a bow.

9. Souvenirs for the crowd. Many fans went home with souvenirs. The boys threw all sorts of stuff at their captive audience—water bottles, picks, drumsticks, even Ely’s shoes. (He was poised to throw his socks, which made everyone laugh. He didn’t.) Ely also gave away his jacket which, to the horror of countless fans online, was eventually cut up by the six people who caught it, so each of them could take home a piece. One crew member joined the fun—after the concert, he hurled at the crowd the container of lighter fluid Ely used when he lit up the piano. And people actually caught it.

8. Marcus singing a reggae version of “Huwag Mo Nang Itanong,” to the delight of the crowd. Raymund letting Jazz take over the drums so he could sing “Slo Mo,” “Alkohol” and “Insomnya.” It was funny to watch the crowd react every time Raymund teasingly approached Ely (of course, the whole world knows why). Buddy finally giving in to the crowd’s requests to take over the mic too, by singing two lines from “Fine Time”— “I don’t care if we sleep all day/Basta kayakap ka ay okay.” The ’Heads were more playful this time—it became clear they were more relaxed in this concert than in the previous reunion. They were actually having fun.It’s always been said that the Eraserheads aren’t big on connecting with the audience and talking to the crowd, but not this time.

7. The sala set. After the first break, the boys emerged onstage in a more intimate setup, with Ely sitting on a couch and the others wielding acoustic instruments. That part of the concert felt so intimate—strange, given the crowd that numbered a hundred thousand. That brief moment, it didn’t feel like we were in a huge concert venue; it felt like we were in a small bar watching our favorite band. Ely deadpanned, “If you have any requests, pakibigay sa waiter.”

6. Ely singing the word “t---ina” when they played Pare Ko. I don’t think a cuss word has received that much applause, ever. When a guy shouted, “I love you, Ely!” Ely replied, “I love you too, pare,” without missing a beat.

5. The insane fireworks of “Overdrive.” They came as such a surprise that some people in front actually ducked.

4. The crowd singing “Ang Huling El Bimbo” while waiting for the Eraserheads to go onstage again. That was a goosebump-moment.

3. The tribute to Francis M. On the day of the concert, people were still trying to come to grips with the news of Francis Magalona’s death. He had been due to perform in the concert. The Eraserheads prepared a tribute instead— “Sumigaw tayo para kay Francis!” Ely said. The crowd broke into a deafening chant, “Francis! Francis!”

Raymund held up a sign that read, “Rock Ed Salutes The Man From Manila.” The band played “Superproxy” and “Kaleidoscope World,” with Ely rapping, instead of Francis. Many people online have written that the teleprompter set up in front of the stage must have been a big help when Ely had to rap “Superproxy.” Truth is, the lyrics of the rap were not on the teleprompter. Yes, Ely knows them by heart.

2. The burning of the piano. There was a confetti storm when the Eraserheads finally played “Ang Huling El Bimbo” but there was a bigger thing happening onstage. Before a shocked audience, Ely set the “Sticker Happy”piano on fire. It was Ely’s old piano which had been at ’70s Bistro for a long time, the piano featured on the “Sticker Happy” album cover. “We actually wanted to use the piano pero sira na ’yun. I don’t know if it was too expensive to repair or we just didn’t have enough time,” Raymund said. Did he know Ely would burn it? “He kinda mentioned it as a joke. He really wanted the piano onstage. But I guess he knew he’d do it; he had lighter fluid.”

1. Three for the road. The Eraserheads had done an encore, the show was over, or so everyone thought. People started to spill out of the concert grounds, the crew took over the stage and started packing up.

Soon, the four were back onstage, standing in a circle. Ely asked the crowd, “Kaya ninyo pa ba?” Everyone was still going wild. “Okay. Three for the road,” he said. They played “Ligaya,” “Sembreak” and “Toyang.”

Ely finally left his comfort zone behind the mic stand and actually went down to the crowd, making people sing parts of Toyang. Asked later why they decided to play more songs, Raymund said, “Sobrang bitin pa kami ni Buddy! Gusto ko pa nga ng sampu eh!”

The extra songs may have been unplanned (and unrehearsed) but they did not come as a surprise.Apparently, in the last rehearsals, Ely said, “’Pag hindi tayo tinigilan, dire-diretso lang tayo.”

This part of the show resonated so much with the crowd not just because they played three well-loved songs, but also because it gave fans hope that maybe, just maybe, like the fans, the Eraserheads didn’t want the night to end.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Did you know that Eraserheads ex-frontman Ely Buendia used to have a column for the Manila Bulletin? Yes! Ely Buendia had a broadsheet column, called "CURSOR," published every Saturdays in the Entertainment section of the Manila Bulletin. Some entries are “Cloning Music,” “Crude Little Robots,” “Biocast Entry No. 13,” “A Dystopian Holiday,” “Mental Floss,” and “A Cause for Elevation” which was his final article. Now because of Ely's busy musical career, CURSOR had ended and was last published during the first Saturday of September 2006.

Here is the debut entry that Ely Buendia wrote for Cursor.

Sometimes, the title is all it takes... by ely buendia

Bsst! Over here! Yeah, you, holding the newspaper. Come and have a look at this.

It’s my new column in the entertainment section of this esteemed broadsheet. I’m Ely by the way. You don’t need to introduce yourself; I won’t be able to hear you.

See, I’ve got a bit of a problem. Well, two problems actually. One is, this being the debut and all; I don’t really know exactly what to write about. What’s that? Entertainment? What an awesome idea! It’s not only right for this section, writing about entertainment is also downright, well, entertaining!

It’ll be a cinch filling up this space. Wait, now you’ve got me thinking, entertainment? It’s such a broad term, it’ll take years, maybe even decades to discuss it. We don’t have that much time. If my calculations are correct, you’re going to shift your attention to other, more entertaining articles (or God forbid, the front page!) in a couple of minutes. We don’t want that.

And what passes for entertainment nowadays, anyway? Hell, some people find root canals entertaining. Not me. No, I wanna write about something worthwhile, not just some crap to fill up this space and meet deadlines. If there’s one thing I’ve learned from essay writing in high school, it’s never take your reader (or grade for that matter) for granted. Never, ever, under any circumstance, no matter how desperate or bereft of ideas you are, try to beat around the bush or use senseless arguments as padding for your work. People notice these things.

But on to more pressing matters. The other problem I told you about? I need a title for this column. What’s so hard about picking a title, you say? Well, you see, I have this theory that sometimes, the title is all it takes for something to sell. Case in point: I recently read that Hollywood still can’t reconcile the fact that last year’s critically acclaimed "Cinderella Man" flopped while the universally panned "Diary of a Mad Black Woman" opened at number one.

If you had absolutely no idea what these movies were about, which one would you watch? In reality, there are so many good movies that suffered greatly because of this. "Mystery Men" should have been a hit were it not for its vague title.

The Coen Brothers seem to have the record for sabotaging their great movies by giving them bad titles: "The Big Lebowski," "O, Brother Where Art Thou," "Fargo," and who can forget the it-looks-like-a-typo classic, "Blood Simple." Think about it, would the Mona Lisa be as famous if Da Vinci called it "Chubby Lady With Long Hair Smiling"?

Or imagine how much better an album Limp Bizkit’s "Chocolate Starfish and the Hot Dog Flavored Water" would be if they named it "Auburn Seaweed Marinated in Virgin Coconut Oil" instead. Okay, not really, but you get the picture.

As theories go, mine remains unproven, but I make it a law anyway. Sometimes it takes a lot longer to name a song than write one. I double- check everything. Is it definitive? Is it giving too much away? Is it not giving anything at all? Is it John Wayne classic? Has it been used already? Is it the truth? Is it fair to those involved? The creative mind swirls with endless considerations. Ah, but such is the cost of perfection. And we must practice what we preach, don’t we? Which is why I’m naming my column Polyglutamate Rigmarole Tomato. A bit unusual, perhaps, but…what? You don’t like it? Yeah, well some help you are. All this time you haven’t said anything and all of a sudden you’re a title expert. And look, while I’ve been trying to share my opinions I’ve run out of space. Perfect. Just perfect. Okay, what if it’s just P.R.T.? It’s short, sounds like L.R.T. and…what? You still don’t like it? Okay, that’s it.

This happened SEPT.13, 1997 Radio City Music Hall, New York City, USA.The Eraserheads was awarded the coveted "Moon Man" trophy for having won the 1997 MTV Asia Viewer's Choice Award. This made them the FIRST EVER Filipino artists to win such award.